It was Memorial Day weekend, which means it was time for the Lauren, Danielle, William, and Jeff annual backpacking trip. We don’t BBQ on holidays. We fight bears on holidays.
Day 1. We woke up at the butt-crack of dawn on Saturday morning, actually excited to go walk 22 miles with a 30lb backpack. First problem.After our delicious Starbucks coffee, we embarked on the first day’s adventure. Notice the life in my voice? That’s because at this point in the trip, I still had life in my soul. The first day was a 12 mile hike and it honestly was not that bad. I promise I am not on drugs. The trail was mostly downhill and our Off Bug Spray bitch slapped every mosquito that attempted to gnaw at our soul. Take that, wannabe vampires.
When we finally arrived at our camp-sight, we built a cute little fire pit out of rocks and ate our delicious PIZZA. Say what? Bet you didn’t think you could make pizza in the wilderness. Well you can. We did. Brush of the shoulders.
Day 2. This was supposed to be our 6 mile day. The easier day. WRONG. Day 2 was the day mother nature found us and decided she hated us. Then bitch slapped us. Then kicked us until we bled. Let the battle begin.
First, the trail was as wide as I was [Insert fat joke here]. Now, if you think you would enjoy balancing on a sidewalk curb that was hanging off the edge of a cliff, while wearing a 30lb backpack, then this would be fun for you (you, also, most likely have something mentally wrong with you and I would see a professional for it). If not, well then, you would hate your life at this point. I am not a ballerina. I don’t do balance. I cannot even walk well on a regular sidewalk. WHY MUST YOU PLAY SUCH CRUEL JOKES ON ME, LIFE?
Even worse, this trail was ALL uphill. Poor nauseated Danielle and gassy William playing his gastro-intestinal trombone. (P.S. we were eating a zillion grams of fiber a day. We were like an Activia commercial. Take that Bifulus-Regularis.) Now, I know I am Jewish and my people walked through the desert…blah, blah, blah. But, this was absolutely ridiculous. Even Moses would have had to take some breathers and a Matzah break.
We finally stopped for lunch at a lovely little campsite, where we met the most perfect couple in the world. The guy lacked any sign of face stubble and the girl’s hair was perfect…straight out of a Pantene commercial. EVEN THEIR DOGS WERE PERFECT. Not one spot of dirt on them. Hence, we automatically hated/wanted to be them. There were also 6 others there who informed us that our campsite was a 4-hour hike away. This information got all of us in a tissy fit because we wanted to make it there before dark (it was 4pm already). So, we threw on our deathpacks and started moving. Oh, if you were thinking things already sound crappy, well then get ready to go for a swim in the sea of POO. 
After walking for 25 minutes, Jeff and I reached a fork in the road. Go straight or go right. We went straight and miraculously figured that Danielle and William had Harry Potter magical powers and would know where we went. UGH! I hate when my psychic powers don’t work. We were more wrong than whoever thought it would be a good idea to make the movie Gigli.
Jeff and I walked for an hour before we realized that we couldn’t even see them on the trail. We waited for ten. Nope. Called out their names. Nothing. Somehow, we found cell phone service and called/texted/e-mailed William. Then, we walked back to the lunch spot in hopes that we would find them there. Zilch.
Day 3. That’s when we found out they were alive. Turns out Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn went TEN MILES down the wrong crap-path, slept on the poo-trail, and only survived because Mother Theresa’s grandchildren found them and helped them escape the jaw of Big Sur (yes, the one I want to punch). When I saw them walking down that mountain I felt so relieved and so sick to my stomach at how traumatized they looked. Shake angry fist at stupid mountain.
The Few Good Memories:
- Jeff (looking at our nails with a pound of dirt under them): This is the opposite of a French Manicure. This is like a poo manicure.
- William playing the butt trombone all the way up the mountain
- Me falling 3 times within an hour
- Jeff using multiple items of clothing for horrible purposes
- The wind quartet
- Danielle’s million nervous questions
- Not camping related but Dominic’s idea for a porn: Hand-jobs on Tractors. Word.
- Jon's calm and collected reaction. Thanks, Dad. :)
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